


He who of sin wounds, of sin perishes

by Shimba97



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Books, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Falling In Love, Family, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Jealousy, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Seven Deadly Sins, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), jealousy aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shimba97/pseuds/Shimba97
Summary: Aziraphale nervously tapped his fingers on the desk, looking at the clock.They hadn't come back yet.Crowley was not back yet.Since that detective from Baker Street, the notorious Sherlock Holmes, had arrived in Soho to solve a series of cases related to the English underworld, all his friends, including Crowley, had lost their minds.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 17





	He who of sin wounds, of sin perishes

**He who of sin wounds, of sin perishes**

Aziraphale nervously tapped his fingers on the desk, looking at the clock.

They hadn't come back yet.

Crowley was not back yet.

What the _hell_ were you still doing out with that man?

He took off his reading glasses, placing them with little interest on the book he had tried - in vain - to read.

Since that detective from Baker Street, the notorious Sherlock Holmes, had arrived in Soho to solve a series of cases related to the English underworld, all his friends, including Crowley, had lost their minds.

He wondered what they found interesting about him, to the point of blushing and drooling almost in his presence.

It was smart, considering the average IQ of the UK population, but what else?

 _"He is very elegant, charming, then those eyes..."_ he remembered the words of Anathema, while he reserved those words to honey.

Just because he wore that collar that gave him a mysterious aura? Or because of those indomitable dark curls? Or for those eyes so light that they are similar to ice?

He had them too, but no one had ever complimented him, not like that at least.

He was a great reader, he had owned that bookshop since 1800, he had a strong intelligence, even in dressing! Tartan was a precious style, not wearable by everyone, for God's sake! It was beautiful, even if _slightly_ out of shape.

Yes, he was definitely better than Sherlock Holmes, in everything. An angel was always superior to a human being.

When he realized his thoughts he blushed: he was sinning with conceit, envy and... jealousy.

Just because Crowley had never told him if it reflected his tastes didn't mean he didn't like it, right?

It rose at the same time as the doorbell on the entrance door rang, and stiffened immediately afterwards.

Crowley had an embarrassed face and his cheeks were red with embarrassment. This made him very uncomfortable, but he tried to hide it under a circumstantial smile.

«Crowley dear, I haven't seen you in a while»

«Hi angel, I've been busy you know, tempting people and...»

«Come on Crowley, chasing Miss Williams isn't part of the "attempt"» that slick, sharp voice got in the way, like a diamond point.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, taking a neutral look, «can you explain?»

«That's... that's it... I accompanied Sher-Mr. Holmes on a field investigation and unfortunately _our_ alleged suspect ran away»

«But we were good at getting it back. You're very fast Crowley, I'll give you that»

He didn't understand how the angel was holding back, he was almost amazed by that terrible desire to punch that dandy in the face, because he really was!

The demon was hanging on his lips and that detective knew it, he discovered every little detail of everyone, even of himself.

That's why when he stared at him with those attentive and scrupulous pupils, he felt barefaced.

«Why are you looking at me like that, Mr. Holmes?»

The detective smiled, «you're quite an interesting guy, Mr...?»

«Call me Aziraphale»

«Aziraphale, interesting name. Tell me, why is it called that? Is it meant for its biblical meaning or...?»

«You are confused with Azrael, Mr. Holmes. I am not named after the angel of death, but of life. I see you know about it, are you Catholic?»

Sherlock just laughed, making Crowley smile too. _Pathetic._

«I believe only in science, not in these unfounded legends. Crowley told me about you, but I think you idealise it too much»

Aziraphale looked at him, trying to understand his words «what does it mean?»

«He spoke to me that he's a very brave man who also knows how to use weapons, but from what I see in doubt»

_Weapons? Fool of a demon, the fire sword was not an earthly weapon!_

«What do you doubt? That he is brave or that he knows how to use weapons? Or both?»

The detective bent the hood, inspecting it «I'm afraid both options or he wouldn't call her _an angel_ _»._

Aziraphale took a single, deep breath. The man was wearing out his patience, crumbling it with those words.

«Do you think I'm not capable? I wouldn't advise you to underestimate me, Mr. Holmes. I saved Crowley's life several times, as he saved mine. I have more character than you think» he stared at him, straight and proud, standing up straight.

«Angel, don't get angry, he's just joking» the demon intervened, feeling the air get more tense.

«If Crowley is a man full of surprises she is even more so. I would be delighted, until this investigation is closed, to meet you again»

That hidden request was a double-edged sword. Did he want to be analysed like a lab rat by him?

That man walking next to Crowley, too close.

The man who made him embarrassed, shut him up or make him stutter.

No, he didn't want to. He felt it was a threat to his friendship with Crowley, that's all.

But the sooner his investigation would be over, the sooner they would not see him again. A little _help_ in the investigation wouldn't have hurt.

«Whenever he wants, he always finds me here, in my _Empire_ _»_

«Very well. Crowley, shall we go?»

«No, he stays here» he stepped forward, his eyes burning with a badly held anger.

«But angel, I must...»

«I said you're staying here, Crowley» and his tone didn't admit any replies.

Yes, that detective was quickly starting to change his mind about him. He nodded to Crowley, giving him his back and opening the door «ah Mr Aziraphale, I would advise you to give another reading of the Bible so that you don't forget the origin of your name. An angel does not sin with jealousy» said this, he came out of the bookshop, causing silence to fall.

The only thing audible in that building was the breath of both.

Aziraphale was more agitated, while Crowley seemed to be barely breathing.

«What... just happened? You kicked him out for no reason and in a bad way too!»

«Forgive me Crowley, but in _my_ library I choose who can stay» she gave him her back, stroking a tome to calm herself.

«And you forced me to stay here, even though I had to go with him for the investigation!»

He didn't make it. The angel turned around, taking steps towards him, until he was face to face.

«Do you want to go with him? Fine, but forget to see me again, Crowley» had completely lost his mind? Yes, he was.

That feeling that he had hidden so much now loomed inside him, overflowing from his heart, clouding his mind.

«You prefer him to me, even though we have known each other since the beginning of the world. Go, go to him, adrenaline is what makes you live, isn't it? What are you doing with a librarian who dedicates his life to reading?» your tone was calm, in a disturbing way.

«Aziraphale, you're scaring me, what the hell is wrong with you?»

«What's the matter with me? You are the demon of temptation, and yet you are so obtuse. Obtuse in not seeing how that dandy man in his elegant coat is attracting you to him so easily, erasing what... I feel for you so easily, without you ever realising it!» now he was angry. Angry with his best friend for not understanding him, not wanting to understand him all the way through.

Crowley squinted his eyes, surprised and confused as if they had thrown a bucket of cold water over his face.

«You...? Why didn't you ever tell me?»

«Was it necessary to do so? You always thought you were one step ahead of the others, instead you were blindfolded, always» in those words there was bitterness. He felt hurt and betrayed, because he had seen with his own eyes being replaced by someone better than him.

«I never suspected it. You are always kind to everyone, you smile, you laugh and you are available even with a fly. That's what Sherlock was trying to tell me and...»

«STOP SAYING HIS NAME!» he shouted, clutching the collar of his black leather jacket in his hands «he's using you! You'll just be a pastime for him and then what will you do? Will you follow him to London? Will you stay here, going back to your _dear_ angel _friend_? I won't be there if you choose him!» he stared deeply, wandering from one pupil to another, agitated.

Only afterwards she pulled him to herself, kissing him.

Only then did he feel all his emotions overflow like a waterfall. Anger, jealousy, love, gripped him in a painful but also welcoming grip, while his use lips were glued to those of the demon.

When she heard him reciprocate, she promised never to let him go again, whatever would happen. _He would show all his courage._

He walked forward, pushing it back, until he crushed it against the bookcase. His soft body was in contact with his, dry and toned. There was no more beautiful feeling than being able to touch and hold him as he had always wanted.

He pulled himself away from her lips, just to catch his breath, while Crowley slowly opened his eyes, showing them shiny with desire «you don't know how long I've waited for this moment... six thousand years, angel» he shook his hand «take me to the back»

Aziraphale nodded, smiling just because it was true, Crowley had been smiling back for a long time. Not even an Apocalypse was enough to bring them closer, but the coming of a cynical and wise detective.

Funny was the way God made fun of one of his followers, but as he always said, it was all part of a bigger plan, him, Crowley and everyone else.

Now he could enjoy his moment, with the person he most desired in the world, in the place he loved, in the company of his books and his only love.

He smiled, from behind that wall.

Sherlock Holmes was never wrong. People were an open book to him, through deduction.

All his work revolved around that and no one could overcome it.

His work was the thing he knew how to do best of all, everyone had given up on it because it was completely impossible.

When he saw that man he immediately understood that under that gentle layer he hid a tormented soul, but he had only confirmed this when he hurled himself at him with all that violence.

It could only be jealousy towards the man next to him.

He had made bingo once again.

He would see it again, he was sure, but for the moment it was better to disappear and disperse among the people, looking for new souls to read, clues to find.

And why not, the sooner he finished his work in Soho, the sooner he went back to John and Rosie, his _family._

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this story.


End file.
